


Young Hearts

by Lee_Mix



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Bolin/Opal mentioned, F/F, Fluff, Young Love, korrasami wedding day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’re young hearts, look at us go, all we really need is a stereo! We’re young hearts, look at us go, there’s no stopping us, we will carry on!” - For Asami dances, Korra watches, and realizes there’s no reason for a spectacular demonstration for their vows of eternal love. It’s spoken in the small glances stolen in the midst of the chaotic dance floor, in the flexing of the fingers as their hands intertwine, and the smiles when all the movement calms down and all they can see in the world is the shine in one another’s eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the song "Young Hearts" by Strange Talk, and my own little (admittedly late) contribution to the Korrasami 'Wedding Day'! Hope you guys all enjoy. :)

It has been a while since Korra and Asami ventured back into the world of the chaotic materialism, to where the Avatar and Miss Sato are titles bestowed on their personalities like epitaphs on a headstone. Long since they have forgotten the nights where sleep escapes them, writing papers with facts and figures and practising recovering arts of bending to protect certain living areas from disaster.

The turbulence soon becomes normality for the two of them, but this time, they have each other’s hearts being held in the hand of the other, and the brief interludes of their dramatic existence where the two of them can lay underneath the sky full of stars, breathe in the cold air, and huddle to each other for warmth whilst laughing about one pointless situation or another is both of their versions of utter bliss.

Now, Asami Sato and Korra the Avatar find peace within the chaotic dancefloor.

Bolin and Opal have not long allowed the world to bear witness to their declaration of love, and now, the festivities commence with the main couple of the evening dancing to their heart’s desire (and by heart’s, it’s more like Bolin’s desire, but Opal’s heart follows on to keep her love happy in his jovial enthusiasm). Korra watches on from the sidelines, drink in hand, sipping casually, drinking in an even sweeter sight in her eyes.

Asami, in glittering gold and passionate red extending down to her ankles and swaying with every spin, dances in the middle of the floor. She’s always been elegant, but every move she’s making makes Korra wonder if she’s one with the air, as the element seems to be caressing each lock of her hair to frame her perfectly.

(“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the dancefloor?”

“I’m sure. I’ve had to cope with Varrick insisting he and Zhu Li are Republic City’s new ‘power couple’ for half an hour.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be directly there. On the actual floor. It’s a nice enough view out here, and the music can be heard alright from this place, and, well, I was just wondering…”

“Are you asking for a dance with me, Korra?”

“If I...was, what would your answer be?”

“... _Always_.”)

Korra almost laughs how unsure and shy she was around Asami back then. The seed had planted itself years before, and now it’s sprouted into something that rivals the Banyan-Grove tree in all it’s splendour. It’s natural between them. Not explosive and fiery like she and Mako were, but it’s… like her native element of water. Changing with the tides.

Looking back to Bolin and Opal, seeing the two of them caught in the crosswire of nuptial bliss that Korra knows will wear off as soon as Opal discovers that Bolin’s planning on shouting “I’m a Bei Fong!” at Narook’s diner in front of Tahno and his cahoots, Korra cannot help but compare it to herself and Asami’s quiet acknowledgement of their feelings three years prior. How the golden light had enveloped them into another world, how metaphorical it may have seemed to an outsider.

She laughs a little again, at the memory and how much she had delayed in simply telling Asami how she felt, but not wishing to taint the possibility of more developing between the two by her brashness. It still exists, her boldness and her short fuse, but it now coincides with an ability to empathise with others, and how she wishes she could have done that with Asami before, instead being jealous over a love that was too explosive to contain the blast in a safe radius from hurting others.

She glances back to Bolin, and a sudden urge washes over her. Is this what people expect of her and Asami in the years to come? To wed and host a wedding ceremony of gargantuan proportions? Korra won’t lie to herself to say the idea of popping the question hasn’t flitted across her mind at some points, but now…?

The song from earlier ends now, cutting Korra’s thoughts of marriage from her head, and Asami approaches Korra, flushed and bright red, but her smile is the most beautiful thing in the world to Korra, no matter if the engineer is sweaty.

(She’s seen her sweaty before, after all, and she thinks the sight of that is simply amazing.)

“Korra! Why weren’t you up there just now? It was so much fun!” Asami wheezes, leaning against Korra’s bare shoulder, and Korra only smiles as she wraps her arm around her.

“Too busy watching you, love.” She grins, even more so at the sight of Asami flushing and burying her head in her shoulder.

“You do love to embarrass me, don’t you?” Asami sighs, looking wistfully at the dance floor. Korra wonders if she just wants to dance again, or if she’s looking at Bolin and Opal.

“Only for you, Asami.” She teases. Pokes her nose. It isn’t surprising for Korra to see a pout playing on her lips. It’s Asami’s way of payback, as she knows Korra can’t resist her when she pouts her cherry lip and flutters her eyelashes in a way that the Avatar finds both endearing and enticing. “Oh, stop that!” Korra chides, as Asami laughs again.

“Stop what?” She says, innocently, and goes away from Korra’s embrace to sit on the bar stool, slightly turning her nose up to the wandering aroma of alcohol. “I’ll admit, I like a good glass of wine once in a while, but… there’s something about alcohol that just turns me away from it. Maybe it’s the smell, I’m not sure.”

“Thinking of another way to enjoy alcohol without the taste, smell or after-effects of being drunk, now?”

“You know, perhaps I will.”

“There’s that inventor I know and adore.”

“And love.”

“And love.”

“Good.”

“Glad we agree on that, then.”

Their grins to each other are sharing emotions, both of mutual love of one another and desire for banter. At first, their relationship bordered on little more than the desire to make the other happy and themselves happy after all they had been through, but it has gradually evolved to the point where they can playfully tease one another and it feels so natural, so right.

Asami soon turns back to the bartender, and orders a simple orange juice, whilst Korra downs the last of her cocktail (honestly, the names of these things can border on ridiculous. ‘69 and feeling fine?’ What?) and neither of them say anything for a few minutes, just allowing the lights of the floor to flood into their brain and override their eyesight.

(Well, not entirely. Korra fails to mention how no light, no matter how bright, could even hope to try and blind her from seeing Asami’s beautiful spirit, after all.)

Still, Korra cannot help but notice Asami’s lingering gaze on the newly-wedded couple, how they are caught up in their own world of blissful ignorance, and begins to tug at her hair. The air between them grows awkward, hanging over their heads with tension (or perhaps it is just Korra who feels this, as Asami has always been good in anxious-ridden situations), and Korra ponders if she should say something.

“The lights are nice.”

_Dammit, Korra._

“What?”

Asami, as Korra expects, is utterly confused at her random commentary. Korra tries to backtrack, spluttering out some random gibberish to cover her tracks, her cheeks go red, and everything that was supposed to be ‘ _Godlike_ ’ about her existence is a lie. How can the Avatar not even handle a situation with her girlfriend?

“Korra, _Korra_! Sweetheart, calm down!” Asami chuckles, but it only succeeds in making Korra bury her face underneath her hands.  

“Muuuuuh.”   
  
“Don’t ‘ _muuuuh’_ me, Korra. What’s wrong?” She uses gentle massages on Korra’s neck to coax her out of her shell, and slowly, Korra manages to look at her again with a lopsided, sheepish grin. “That’s it. Now, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” She falters at the slight movement on her neck, briefly relaxing into it. Korra clears her throat before continuing. “You keep looking at Bolin and Opal.”

“Well, it’s their wedding. They’ve earned the attention.” Asami points out, “and Opal looks beautiful today. Are you jealous?”

“What? No! No, not at all.” (Well, not _all_ the time). “The thought crossed my mind that maybe you… were jealous of them. Of, uh. The fact they got married.” Korra rubs her thumbs together, biting her lip.

Asami blinks before the message settles in, and a slight pink expanse settles across her face. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Korra breathes, and the music begins to drown in the unease.

Silence befalls them both, and it’s beginning to wear on the Avatar. She has the ability to battle foes that many would only conjure up in their nightmares, but the uncertainty with Asami is certain to kill her if neither one speaks up soon, but Korra finds to her own personal horror, she cannot speak.

Thankfully, it’s Asami who speaks first, albeit with grave difficulty.

“I was thinking of it, but...not in the way you’d expect. I mean, the thought of marrying you is a lovely thought, and I think I would love to, just not right now.” Asami fiddles with the end of her hair, and Korra feels relieved that she is able to muster up the courage to look at her, because Spirits, Korra has never been good at articulating feelings of romance in a tender manner unless she’s had experience. Even then, it’s a handful.

“...So, how _were_ you thinking of it?”

“I was thinking about how we’re strong even _without_ the thought of this. Any of this.” She gestures around the grandeur hall, at the couples dancing and the music playing, and Korra realises she’s right. “I love you, Korra, but I don’t need a proposal from you right now. We’ve been together for two years, but even then, I don’t feel the need to rush. All I need is to know is that we’re going somewhere. That this isn’t going to be all messy like our last relationships.”

Asami goes to intertwine her fingers with Korra’s and raises their joined hands so that she can kiss them. She smiles gently, and Korra figures she could brave any problem in that moment and not care because this is her idea of utopia.

“Because this feels _right_ , Korra. And I want to feel like this forever, wedding or not.”

“You really are one for grand speeches, aren’t you?”

“Seriously? You’re going to kill the mood now--”

Asami stops dead in her tracks, seeing the slight tears brimming in Korra’s eyes, slipping down her cheeks, and Asami soon finds that she’s crying too. Both women soon end up gripping one another’s hand tighter, laughing and weeping pathetically over a few honeyed words, and Korra knows she agrees with Asami one-hundred percent and more.

“Feels right to me, too, Asami.”

Then, like the grown, mature, responsible women that they both should be, they begin to tickle one another until all the tears are gone, attracting a plethora of gazes their way. Yet neither care for the looks of perplexity, unless it’s the way the two of them look at each other, for it’s just the Avatar blessing this sight to the world yet again.

That charade of childishness soon ends, as most things innocent do, and Asami leans against Korra, breathless and deliriously happy. It’s only now that a thought comes to mind, circulating and tempting her to speak.

“...Korra?”

“Mm?” She hums in reply, closing her eyes and relishing in Asami’s touch.

“How would you feel if I asked you to move in with me?”

Korra becomes still, and Asami tenses up. Doubt begins to trickle into her mind, and she goes to pull away, but Korra’s arm holds her steadfast.

“Don’t run away after asking something like that.”

“...I won’t if you give me an answer.”

She can feel Korra’s heart racing.

“Well, it’s a big thing you’re asking. For one, I snore.”

“I know. I have earplugs.”

“I love to eat.”

“I have the money.”

“I’ll steal all the covers.”

“I’ve stolen your heart, I think that’s even.”

“I’ll play pranks on you all the time.”

“You think I can’t get even with that?”

“I won’t be around all the time.”

“I’ve always got you in my thoughts anyway.”

She thinks Korra will ask her another question, and she thinks she has to compensate for it, justify whatever doubts Korra may have on impending in her lifestyle. She thinks that Korra will refuse, having been too close to the people over at Air Temple Island and that she will have to understand completely (despite her heart shattering on the inside for even offering in the first place and not taking any of this into consideration.).

Instead, she’s met with a kiss. A brief one, but it shuts her mind up instantly.

“Then, Miss Sato, I would be _honoured_.”

Their moment of bliss is cut short by Bolin begging them to come back to the dancefloor, wanting them to join in on at least one romantic number. Asami laughs, Korra flushes, and neither of them can fault Bolin for ruining their moment, because, truth be told, announcing the news that they were moving in together would have taken the spotlight away from the main couple of the evening.

So, Asami drags Korra back out into the centre of the chaotic dance floor, hands never leaving each other as they spin in accordance to the music that resonates with the hearts of the young love that blossoms still between them. It’s cliched, to say the least, but wrapped up in their embrace, they scarce notice anyone else, letting their own heartbeats synch with one another.

It’s the stolen glances, the small quirk of the lips, and the passing of whispers saying, “I love you,” that make this moment worthy of history, in the eyes of Asami and Korra. It’s spoken in the small glances stolen in the midst of the chaotic dance floor, in the flexing of the fingers as their hands intertwine, and the smiles when all the movement calms down and all they can see in the world is the shine in one another’s eyes.

Korra knows there’s no need to rush, not right now.

Young hearts beat for a long time, and Korra _knows_ her heart is in safe hands.


End file.
